


Santa Situation

by mysteryninja98



Series: In Another World [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Santa Baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteryninja98/pseuds/mysteryninja98
Summary: It's a good thing Steve Rogers likes being Santa and fulfilling people's wishes. Especially if one of those people is a redhead who didn't mean to send one.





	Santa Situation

**Author's Note:**

> Three claps for inspiration.

“Now, these papers being passed around aren’t anything special, right? Just a plain old piece of lined paper - it doesn’t even have snowflakes on it. But all of you have pencils, right?” A wave of nodding heads swept over the room. “Now if you have a piece of paper and a pencil, then this paper becomes _magical_.”

A look of wonder filled the little faces that looked up at Ms. Natasha Romanov.

“You can create a world of your own and send knights away to battle the bad guys or have the damsel save the prince in distress,” she said with a small smile, causing the little boys to furrow their brow and the little girls to giggle. “But today, these pieces of paper are going to grant you a wish. I want you all to write down the thing you want more than anything else in the world, and then we’re going to send them to Santa.”

An excited babble rose, but it died down when Natasha called out for silence. “Make a Christmas list, I’ll be walking around to help with spelling, but raise your hand if you need anything.”

With that, the kids took to the papers, wanting more than anything to believe that such a simple thing could grant them a wish, that such a small action would make them special enough to be at the receiving end of what they wanted for once, instead of what they needed.

Natasha had been volunteering at New York’s Home for Children nearly since she had moved there. Her best friend and former roommate Darcy ran the home, and when Natasha came to visit one day, she couldn’t help but fall in love with the sweet little faces that looked up at her like she would be the one to save them all.

It was a little bit easier back in those days to find time to help them – she was new to the city, and a fresh ballet dancer usually had more than enough time on his or her hands because there never seemed to be a need for new faces, and the fact that her roommate had a car that went there every day helped too. But that was then. Now her new face wasn’t so new to the ballet world, which meant her time was consumed with hours of rehearsals and meetings with her agent and performances that had to be just right. Not to mention that Darcy was living at the home now and Natasha was living with her cat in a studio apartment with only the public transit to take her to the home. But she found time in her busy schedule to teach every Tuesday and Thursday, and every week she wished she could do more. But rent prices seemed to be on the rise, and each audition landed her a role without fail. So she did what she could and made the best out of those two days.

“Miss Romanov, aren’t you gonna write a letter?”

Natasha looked over to the sweet voice to find a little boy named Bruce, staring at her with big, round green eyes.

Natasha laughed softly, knowing that Santa wasn’t real unless she decided to splurge on herself and buy something nice. But she wasn’t about to say that to the kids’ faces.

“I want you to have the very best of whatever Santa has in his workshop. Besides, I have everything I need.”

“But everyone deserves something nice. I don’t want anything if it means you won’t get anything.” A little pout had settled on his lips and a defiance burned in his eyes. Natasha looked around the room and saw his classmates starting to look over and put their pencils down too. It never failed to amaze her how selfless these kids were without having a reason to be, seeing as it seemed they had drawn the short straw in life.

“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me. Here, look,” she said, grabbing an extra piece of paper and a pencil from her desk before scribbling down the first thing that came to mind. It wasn’t as if she was planning on sending it anyways. “Happy?”

Bruce looked quite pleased for a five year old. He picked up his pencil and started carefully carving words onto his paper.

Thirty minutes later, all the papers were collected and the kids were bouncing off the walls telling each other what they had wished for. Another volunteer came to collect them and take them to dinner while Natasha gathered up her stuff and went to drop off the letters to Darcy.

When she poked her head into the door, Darcy looked up with wild eyes. Now while it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Darcy to get all worked up about something or another, she looked genuinely upset.

“Natasha?”

“Hey Darce. What’s wrong?” Darcy let out a big breath and leaned back in her chair, dragging her hands down her face.

“Santa called off Christmas, that’s what.”

Natasha cocked her eyebrow. “Huh?”

“I’ve called every male I know and every male I might not have actually known and every single one of them has had the audacity to have a legit reason as to why they can’t dress up as a big fat guy and make orphans happy for a few hours.”

“Wait, you mean we don’t have a Santa? What about Clint? He always does it.”

“Yeah, but his wife is due next week, so he’s out of commission for the next month or so.”

“Have you asked your boyfriend?”

“He’s flying home for his sister’s wedding, which is also something I’m missing.”

“Hmm.” Natasha mulled over the question in her mind, rolling her tongue along her teeth.

“Are these the letters?”

“Yeah,” Natasha said, distracted. “We got that grant from the hospital to buy the gifts, right?”

“Of course we did. Do you think I had them write these letters just so that I could crush their dreams?”

Natasha let out a laugh, shaking her head at Darcy’s snarkiness. Her phone dinged just then, and as she read the name, a lightbulb went off in her head.

“I think I might be able to get us a Santa.”

Darcy looked at her. “If you do, kiss him for me. If he has legit plans, break his foot so that he no longer has plans.”

“I’m pretty sure having a broken foot would be a legit reason for not being able to play Santa.”

Darcy looked at her blankly. “The kids sit on your lap, not your foot. I didn’t ask you to break his balls, did I?”

Natasha just smiled and shook her head, picking up her stuff.

“I’m gonna go see if I can get Santa to dress the part.”

“Please do. Have a good night Nat,” Darcy said, shuffling through the letters Natasha had delivered.

……..

When Natasha got home, she pulled out a recipe book, flipping the pages until a little stapled piece of paper came into view. And just like that (an hour later) she had a basket of freshly baked Russian tea cookies and a hopeful smile as she turned left out her door and walked the five steps to her neighbor’s place to knock.

The doorknob turned a few seconds later and she was greeted with the tired, slightly scruffy (yet still admittedly perfect) face of Steve Rogers. Even fitted in a semi-loose tee shirt and sweats, the man was just begging to be ogled at.

He smiled when he saw Nat, then the aroma of the cookies captured his attention, causing his smile to morph into a look of amused suspicion.

“You know you don’t have to bribe me to give your cat back,” he said, his voice joking.

“You have my cat?”

“Didn’t you see my text earlier? I found her wandering the hall when I got back, figured she must’ve slipped out when you left.”

Natasha had been too busy figuring out how she was going to charm Steve into becoming Santa and realized she never actually read his text.

“Oh. Well, yeah, I’d like my cat back. But she isn’t what I brought cookies for.”

“Mmm. And I’m not naïve enough to believe you brought them over in an act of neighborly kindness either.”

“Too right you are, mi amigo. I need to call a favor.”

“If it’s within my power and doesn’t have to do with being a male stripper for Darcy’s bachelorette party, I would be happy to offer my help.”

Natasha pretended to be disappointed and deadpanned, “Damn it, Rogers, now I’ll have to find another hot neighbor to wear the sexy S.W.A.T. officer costume I ordered.”

He looked slightly taken aback, but shook his head and grinned when he caught the small smirk working its way onto Natasha’s lips.

“But seriously, I want to know how that came up.”

“Last time you two drank the wine aisle dry,” he started, ignoring her exasperated eye roll, “I was coming back from a late shift when we met on the stairs as she was going to meet her boyfriend. And, well, she doesn’t exactly have a filter sober, much less drunk, so as I escorted her to their car she made it clear that if I wanted to make an appearance then I would be welcome as long as I liked.”

“Well you can’t blame her,” Natasha said, shrugging.

Steve scoffed, faux-offended, “Am I a piece of meat to be appraised, Ms. Romanov? I demand to be treated like a human being, not an object!” he exclaimed, his exterior just the right amount of confident, but there was no mistaking the blush making its way to the tips of his ears.

Natasha grinned. “Can I come in? I seriously have to talk to you about something.”

Steve smiled back and opened his door, sweeping his arm as a welcome into his home.

The apartment wasn’t bare of human existence but you could tell that he spent many of his hours in the pediatric ward at the hospital where he worked.

Natasha set the basket on his kitchen table and leaned against his counter as he poured a glass of orange juice for himself.

“You want anything?”

“Yeah, I do. But it doesn’t come in the form food or drink. So you know the orphans’ home I volunteer at?”

“The one the hospital gave the grant to?”

“Yep, that one. So we have the money to get the kids Christmas presents and now we have their Christmas lists and it’s all coming together for next week. But we are still lacking a certain fat man in a big red coat with lap for them to sit in. That’s where you come in.” Steve looked at her from over his glass.

“You think I’m fat?” he said with a stupid, yet annoyingly adorable little smirk.

“Obviously,” Natasha countered, deliberately raking her eyes over his broad shoulders and small waist and making him blush again before putting the glass back to his lips.

“So you want me to do a man hunt for a guy who’d be fat enough and willing to be Santa?”

Natasha sent a look his way, and Steve just gave a boyish grin back.

“No, I want you to help us get Santa into his fat suit. And by helping us I mean you’d be the one getting into the fat suit. Which would make you Santa.”

“Hmmmm. And what do I get out of this?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips to let her know he was kidding, as if he would actually do something purely for his own benefit.

“Well, you’d get to spend the day with me, which is the biggest plus-“

“Are you trying to entice me or threaten me?”

Natasha stuck out her tongue at him before continuing. “You’d get free cookies and you’d be the one to put smiles on some kids’ faces who need something to smile about.”

Steve was quiet a moment.

“I thought I was already getting free cookies,” he said, motioning to the basket on the table.

“You thought I’d let you keep those if you said no?”

“So you are threatening me.”

“Gods above, Rogers, do you have to be difficult all the time?”

“Only for you,” he grinned. “Yeah, I’d love to be Santa. But only for the kids and the free cookies. I could take or leave you,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose and smile. “You said this is next week?”

“Yeah, it’s next week on Thursday during the time I usually teach lessons, so if you could be at the home about, say, 4:00ish? Would that work for you?”

“You’re in luck because next Thursday is my day off so that they can train the new guy who’s starting soon without overstaffing.”

Natasha let out a breath of relief. “Thank you so much, Steve, really. You don’t know how much this means to us and how much stress it takes off Darcy. Which reminds me,” she said, pushing herself up and stepping close to Steve, “this is from her.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. The simple act made his cheeks flame and his head duck shyly. It didn’t take much to embarrass the poor guy. His friends must have a field day with that sort of trait.

“And trust me, it was a much better alternative to what she gave me orders to do if you said no.”

“And what was that? Take away those tasty looking cookies?”

“No, that was my own personal twist on the punishment.”

“So what was it?”

“Let’s just say that if you had plans, then you would no longer have them.”

“She told you to wipe out my social life?”

“If you had one it’s not like it would be that hard. But no, she told me to break your foot.”

“A tiny little thing like you?”

“Is that a challenge, Rogers?”

He smiled a little, putting his hands up in the air in surrender. “Nah. I’ve got nothing but respect for ballet dancers. You could probably kick my butt any day you wanted.”

“Damn right.”

They stood there for a few seconds in silence before a furball rubbed against Natasha’s legs. She bent down to pick up her cat and turned to Steve with one last smile.

“Welp, I think that’s my call to get going. Thanks again. You’re really saving Christmas, I hope you know that.”

“Any time. I’d do anything for those kids.”

“Good to know,” Natasha said, snatching a cookie out of the basket before making her way to the door, “I’ll keep that in mind the next time we need a tooth fairy or Easter bunny.”

“Hey,” Steve called indignantly, “don’t even try to tell me that’s your first cookie! You probably ate half the batch while you were making them, and you only want me to be a fairy to see me in a leotard.”

“You’re right on both accounts,” she said with a mouthful of cookie and a wink, closing the door before he could get the last word in.

……

When Natasha texted Darcy the news of their Santa situation, she could very nearly hear her squeal from across the city.

“Why didn’t _I_ think of Steve? He’s such an obvious pick, oh man I’m so stupid. And that would’ve given me a chance to talk to him! Why do you get to be his neighbor?” Darcy lamented the next Tuesday.

“Might I remind you of the steady boyfriend you’ve had for the past two years?”

“Just because you’re on a diet doesn’t mean you can’t look at the menu. And damn, his section of the menu is positively _scrumptious_.”

“You’d think you were starved or something.”

“Can we drop the food analogy? As amazing as the words ‘food’ and ‘Steve Rogers’ go together, it’s making me hungry and I don’t get dinner for another couple of hours.”

Natasha laughed.

“But I happen to be the best friend of a girl who only _acts_ like she’s on a diet but who could totally order six entrees of Steve Rogers because she’s lucky enough to be his neighbor.”

Natasha laughed again. “I thought we were dropping the food analogy.”

“I thought you knew I won’t let you change the subject.”

“Technically this is the same subject since-“

“Cut the crap Nat. Why haven’t you made a move? He’s sweet, smart, single, and sexy. What else could you want in a guy?”

“More adjectives that start with ‘s’ evidently.”

“Steve Rogers deserves every one of those adjectives and you know it.”

“I wasn’t arguing with you, Darce,” she said with a smile.

“So you _do_ like him!”

“I never said that either, I was agreeing that he deserved all the adjectives.”

“Well he deserves one that doesn’t start with ‘s’ too.”

“And what would that be?”

“You.”

They walked in silence for a few moments.

“’You’ as in the noun ‘you’ or the letter ‘u’?”

And that’s when Natasha got pushed into a wall.

………..

Two days later at 4:00, Darcy and Natasha found themselves faced with a freshly shaven, excited Steve Rogers trying to stuff himself into an oversized fat suit covered in crimson and white material. The whole process should have only taken about 15 minutes, but they kept having to stop because Steve was trying to fit a cookie in Santa’s pocket for later or Darcy would steal the beard and make crude jokes with it that would make Steve turn the color of the suit or Natasha would take advantage of the loss of balance the suit brought Steve, which all ended with them laughing harder than they should have.

But they finally pulled it all together, and Steve’s blue eyes were twinkling from under the itchy blanket of fake hair. He really did make a good Santa.

It finally rolled around to the time where the kids were all squirming and cheering as Santa waved and ‘ho-ho-ho’ed and sat in the “throne” (aka Darcy’s chair with a buttload of Christmas decorations) to begin calling kids up to sit on his lap.

Natasha and Darcy stood off to the side, smiling as Steve fell into his role perfectly, making each kid laugh in turn and come off his lap smiling more than when they got there.

“You know, I’d be pretty happy if I got to sit in his lap too,” Darcy mused and Natasha backhanded her on the arm.

“Not appropriate around the kids,” she said, but the remark had made her snicker all the same.

“Sooooo,” Darcy started. Natasha knew what was coming wasn’t going to be good by the tone of her voice. “If _you_ got to sit on his lap, what would you wish for?”

“I’d wish for world peace.”

“What would you wish for if you, say, wrote a letter to ‘Santa’?” Natasha’s smile dropped as she remembered the piece of paper from a week ago, and try as she might, she couldn’t remember leaving it on her desk. Which meant…

“You didn’t.”

Darcy’s smile was nothing short of gleeful. “I sent them on Tuesday. It was only fair to give _Santa_ a heads up of what the kids wanted.”

“Please tell me that letter wasn’t included.”

“I can’t do that,” Darcy sang. Natasha buried her head in her hands and groaned.

“Darcy, you read the letter, right?”

“Of course I did!”

“Then _why_ on this go-odness forsaken earth,” Natasha corrected when a little girl looked up at them, smiling, “would you _send it to Steve Rogers_?”

“Because you two belong together.”

“You aren’t matchmaker.”

“But I could be.”

“But you aren’t, which is why you literally can’t just do something like that on my behalf.”

“But I did.” Darcy’s smile hadn’t fallen, and there was no trace of regret in her voice – only a hint of smugness.

Natasha didn’t talk to Darcy as the rest of the kids filtered through before returning to their spot on the floor.

“Now, all of you have made it onto my nice list, which means I can officially give you these, even though Christmas next week!”

Some of the volunteers appeared with wrapped boxes, and Natasha’s anger faded as she heard the kids gasp and squeal as presents were handed out according to names on the box.

She walked over to some of the kids, who looked up at her with wonder in their eyes as they received what they had wanted most on their Christmas lists.

She was nearing the front when she felt a pair of strong, fluffy arms wrap around her middle and backtrack until landed with a thunk on Steve’s lap.

“Now what would _you_ like for Christmas, little girl?” he asked in his deep Santa voice. In his hand she saw the very last paper that had her signature at the bottom.

“I swear if you read that out loud I will sick Remy on your face and it will no longer be deserving of its praise.”

His eyes were still twinkling and she could see his smile through the beard.

“I would never.”

“You so would.”

“You’re so right,” he said, tugging the beard down and kissing her square on the lips.

Natasha smiled and brought her hand up to his cheek, kissing his back for a moment until she heard Bruce scream, “MISS ROMANOV IS KISSING SANTA!”

A chorus of ‘ewwww’s echoed from the kids and they laughed.

“I would so much rather show them that I made your wish come true,” he grinned, and the paper fell to the ground, revealing Natasha’s messy scrawl spelling out “ _I wish that my neighbor would finally make a move”._

Who knew Santa really did grant wishes.


End file.
